


as sure as tomorrow

by weatheredlaw



Category: Marvel 616, Spider-Man (Comicverse)
Genre: Costumes, Couch Sex, F/M, Psychological Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-27
Updated: 2013-02-27
Packaged: 2017-12-03 19:59:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/702037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weatheredlaw/pseuds/weatheredlaw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A variation on a romantic tryst between two unlikely lovers, no formal introductions, no one around to point out the obvious: this is not what love is. In short, <i>I've got you, Spider, I've got you.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	as sure as tomorrow

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't read a lot of the Felicia-Peter stuff, but I do know it's awesome and I do know the Fe and Pete in my RP are smokin' so. This is for Del.

The lycra tears with an angry, spitting sound, not so unlike a cat, she thinks. The Spider is hardly amused, opening his mouth to complain -- _Broke, Cat, I’m broke_ \-- so she seals her lips over his to shut him up instead. He huffs against her mouth, kisses clumsy like he never has before, but she supposes that’s part of his charm. His hands know better, know where to go because they have been through this song and dance before, with more hissing, more disaster. Felicia loves him, but she wants to turn him inside out and suck the marrow from his bones, too. She wants to lick her fingers clean when she’s done with him and leave him out to dry.  
  
He always stares like he’s starving, and she suspects it has something to do with the way his hair falls over his eyes, hides him from everyone else. He has the look of someone who will never be comfortable with the angry gift he’s been given, even if he could talk himself to death about power and duty. He’s like a knight with no horse, no dame in a castle, no fire to come home to. He is infinitely lonely and at home all at once.   
  
She wishes the way he looked at her didn’t hurt so much.  
  
“Come on, Spider, don’t leave me hanging.” She kisses him, nipping his lip before managing that ridiculous outfit off his body. More toned than the last time, she notes. Fresh scars the pop up like infant ridges on his chest. A bone that clicks when she moves it this way or that. Her Spider is a mess, but she likes it that way. “Gone to war I see.”  
  
“A few times over,” he murmurs, going quiet.  
  
Felicia hates the quiet.  
  
She presses her mouth against his neck and bites, pulling a strangled shout from him before soothing it with her tongue. He’ll bruise, but she likes to know it’s because of her this time around.   
  
“ _Jesus--_ ”   
  
“Not even close,” she murmurs, and unzips her costume the rest of the way, letting it pool at her ankles. She shoves him onto her sofa, straddling his hips. He’s been awkwardly hard since they got back here and she’s eager to take care of it, eager to get him inside of her, kiss him stupid and fuck him senseless. There’s no filter in her head for the things she wants to do to him. The things he makes her want to do. She digs into the couch cushions for the condoms she keeps her for things like this, wanting to move things along.  
  
He takes her hand in his.  
  
“Hey.” Another comes up to cup her cheek. “ _Hey._ ”  
  
“Hey yourself. Come on--” She gasps, feeling his fingers brush her clit without warning, throwing out a hand against his shoulder to stop herself from falling into his arms. “ _That_ \--”  
  
“S’okay,” he says quietly. “Is it okay?”  
  
“Yeah. Yeah, that’s...” Felicia closes her eyes, sucks in a breath and moans while his moves his fingers against her in steady, hard circles. She’d forgotten the way he was with her, the way he was with whole world, the way he held everything in his hands like he knew it wouldn’t break, but he just wanted to make _sure._ Make absolutely sure. He’s seen her bleed and bite, but he still holds her like she might fall to pieces.  
  
The way he touches her, she thinks she just might.  
  
Her orgasm is a careful thing, gentle without much of a show. He slips a finger into her as she clenches around him, sliding their lips together and sucking his tongue into her mouth.   
  
“I remember what you like,” he says, trying to be cool, but failing. Felicia grins.   
  
“A spider never forgets.”  
  
“I actually know nothing about the memory of a spider. Pretty sure it’s not--”  
  
“That was not a question.” She raises an eyebrow. “I could go two for two,” she adds quietly, finally unearthing her prize from the under the cushion.  
  
“Your dedication to this level of preparedness is something to be admired,” he murmurs, pulling her in to kiss her again, smiling against her lips. Felicia flicks open the foil wrapper and rolls it down the length of his cock.   
  
When she finally, finally, _finally_ sinks onto him, she wants to throw her head back and scream. He stills against her, hands coming up to brace against her back, fingers pressing hard on her skin. His forehead is hot on her chest, mouth grazing one of her breasts as she pushes herself up and takes him almost completely out before dropping down again.   
  
She wishes he would close his eyes.  
  
He’s terrible about maintaining this ridiculous, scrutinizing eye contact, like looking away from her might make it all go away. Like if he doesn’t watch her, it won’t be real -- _and part of her understands that, part of her knows that maybe reality has zipped and unzipped itself for him too many times over, that he has come from one world into another and lost everything again and again and so she gives him this she keeps looks_ \-- it won’t be _real._  
  
“It is real,” she murmurs, framing his face with her hands. “It’s real, you know that.”  
  
“Please--”  
  
“Come on, Spider.” Felicia slows down, rolling her hips and stopping with him completely buried inside of her, keeping him close. “You’re just fine, you know that.”  
  
“I can’t--”  
  
“You can. You can. It’s alright. It’s okay. This is good, isn’t it? This is good?” He nods, mouth open and west against her chest as he comes, shuddering to the end, fingers digging into her hips. “See? See, it’s good, it’s--” He holds himself in her, pressing his knuckles against her and it’s too much, not enough she comes, she--  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
In the morning, she wakes up and he’s gone, as usual. She didn’t really expect anything different, but it still stings the way it does with everyone. There’s a note on the bed, because that’s the kind of guy he is -- _It is real, thanks for reminding me. **S.**_  
  
Felicia hauls herself out of bed and puts on a robe, going into the kitchen to make breakfast.   
  
“Oh.” He’s in the kitchen in his boxers, flipping pancakes. “I thought you were a day-sleeper.”  
  
“You left a note.”  
  
“Yeah, I figured I’d eat and go.”  
  
“You _left a note._ ”  
  
“Mmm, yeah I didn’t think that one through.” Felicia crosses the kitchen and pinches him -- _“Ow!”_ \-- then kisses him. “Mmph--”  
  
“Very rude, Spider.”  
  
“I never promised to be a gentleman,” he murmurs  
  
But they both know that’s hardly true.


End file.
